Inviting
by Metamorcy
Summary: Before Demyx journeys to his death, he remembers about his old dead lover, Zexion and the pain that came with it. This is before the battle at the Hollow Bastion with Demyx. Zemyx


Inviting

By: Metamorcy

_Disclaimer: don't own anything_

_Before Demyx journeys to his death, he remembers about his old dead lover, Zexion and the pain that came with it. This is before the battle at the Hollow Bastion with Demyx._

Demyx wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't fall, stopping cold in the eye slits. _They_ had done it at long it at long last. The organization had turned on him, giving him a suicidal mission without any possibility of living. He kneeled down feeling weak in the knees and crushed his bare fingers together into the palms of his hand. His body trembled, he was scared of dieing. Demyx couldn't do anything but make sure that the mission was carried out; _they_ would _force_ him to that. He could hear them laughing at his pitiful sake, pointing fingers with large gins plastered across their face. Number 9 could hear it in his head, listening and trying to cry it out. But he couldn't cry anymore, not after the only person that had cared for him, loved him and even helped him passed away a year ago. No, passed away is too kind of the way he died; he was brutally murdered, killed by Axel and that Riku clone. Demyx wanted revenge, he wanted it so badly but that wasn't him, he wasn't the type to kill meaninglessly. Number 9 was the type of person to glance the other way, always looking for a cleaner path and look where it brought him. On the floor in a begging position like a lowly dog, cursing out of his mind just to make himself feel better.

"Zexion." A ghost of a whisper escaped his parted lips, speaking in a way a person spoke to their lover during sex. He cried without any tears, depressed and shaken to the core. Demyx never dried a single tear after Zexion died, everything being torn out leaving him empty and cold. Even when the others started torturing him just to see if there was any reaction since his protector was no longer there, he did nothing to stratify them but scream out in pain.

"I miss you."

Demyx collapsed his body feeling like lead and heavy. He felt frozen inside and out as if ice coated his empty place where the heart was suppose to be at. His sea green eyes had changed color to a pale one decorated in sparkles showing the water that reflected off. He raised a fist into the air, slamming it forcefully into the wall. A flash of pain coursed through his body but ignored it, doing the action again. He raised the other one, beating them both into the solid wall. It felt good, Demyx thought lifting up his head to observe his hands. The pained numbed his senses, driving his judgment away. More pain and agony, sharper this time made him stop for a few seconds. Demyx gazed at the bland white wall, eyeing it carefully. A droplet of red was splashed against it, splattered in multiple directions. More ran down the bottom of his hands, running downward staining the white red. Some went down his palm dripping off before it could get to the wrist with long blood lines.

'Blood.' Demyx noticed, eyes slanted and uncaring. He started again, beating into it with all his strength. More blood ran down, some now getting on his arms. The sound of the fist splattering into the liquid echoed through out the room. His grunts of irritation followed after each 'bang' and 'squash'. A pool forming below, first small now growing in size to a circular shape.

A thought of Zexion passed through his blank mind.

Number 9 stopped, frozen in terror. What would Zexion think of him seeing him do this? Would it be in disgust? Would he be angry? Would Zexion hate him for purposefully hurting him self like this? Demyx pulled back, eyes going wide. He would, wouldn't he? Zexion would scold him for doing something like this, something so…so…emo?

Demyx leaned back, hitting the back of the bed almost laughing at his own comment. He still remembered the time when he used to call his lover that, getting a reaction like a tap on the head. The wooden frame pushed into his back bone and the covers cooled him down. He sighed catching his breath and closed the eyes. Number 9 could still see his lover, hear him even smell the man next to him lending support whenever Demyx felt down. But Zexion was dead, been long dead, dissolved into black misty particles over a year ago and during that time, Demyx could only grieve. He would have already died if he didn't bear unimaginable hatred towards Axel, the one that brought down Zexion's demise.

Number 9 groaned, the pain from his hands was coming back and it hurt like hell. He made no movement to fix it up though, he just sat there tired out and insensible. As the blood pooled around the hands, it began to seep into the coat's cloth changing the color slightly. Demyx's head tilted back, facing the ceiling. His lips moved, moaning out the four words he could no longer say to his most important person. "I love you Zexion."

A shred of a tear slipped, something he hadn't done for a year, came crawling down the cheeks. It tickled his skin and when it fell off, dropping into the pond of blood, a ripple was created, spreading until it had gone through out the whole puddle. A glistering trail of salt stained the cheeks, slowly drying up from the warmth. His right hand reached up, using the sleeve to wipe it off and clean the flesh. Demyx took a deep breath then out, relaxing until he suddenly smiled. His empty chest had realized something important and so did his mind. He was going to die, probably done in by Sora him self. Perhaps that would give him a chance to find Zexion once more. Maybe he could hold the shorter boy in his arms like he had done in the past. Death _now_ didn't seem so bad. It would be a release and Zexion would be waiting for him on the other side. With new found confidence, he stood up, wrapping his hands inside the black gloves while covering up the large wounds without even bothering to heal them up first. It wouldn't have made a difference though; Sora was just too powerful to be stopped by a mere weak nobody. Demyx grabbed his blue sitar and headed out the door, out to Hollow Bastion, out to his death and out to see his heart in heaven.


End file.
